


A Brighter Day

by couchbarnacle



Series: Pave the Way Series [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU Fic, Gen, Sherlock's lack of boundaries, University Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-22
Updated: 2012-10-22
Packaged: 2017-11-16 20:41:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/543622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couchbarnacle/pseuds/couchbarnacle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John's in University now. Sherlock still doesn't understand boundaries...</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Brighter Day

**Author's Note:**

> I"m kind of hoping people don't just totally abandon this series after this story...wish me luck.

“You’re not a pre-teen, John,” Murray drawled as he lounged on his mate’s dorm room floor, “Stop staring at yourself in the bloody mirror.”

“One too many take-aways,” John sighed as he adjusted his rather recently tighter trousers, “It’s official. I’ve become a statistic.”

“Would you calm your tits?” Murray sighed.

“I need to start running again,” John continued, ignoring his mate and poking at his belly slightly, “Or at least start eating vegetables again.”

“Are we really going to spend the evening with me listening to whinge about your waistline?” Murray complained, “Or are you going to that party?”

“Sorry,” John sighed, “Yeah, let me just get a jacket.”

They made it to the some dilapidated house and the people filing in and the loud music were hints enough that they reached the right location. John checked his phone once before putting it on silent and following Murray into the party. They’d only been in the door a few seconds before Murray had disappeared in cloud of lavender perfume and long, dark hair as he was pulled away by one of the girls in his Calculus course to go dance. John made his way to the kitchen and grabbed a beer before catching sight of some other students in his anatomy class.

“Hey Liam, Amanda,” he sidled over.

“Hey!” they called out happily, “Did you get that lab book assignment complete on the adrenal gland yet?”

They chatted nervously about the exam that was coming up next week worth 30% of their grade for a few minutes when another classmate arrived.

“Sarah,” John said, fighting down a nervous stutter, “Hi.”

“Hey there,” she answered with a big grin, “Are you honestly still talking about the course? I could’ve sworn this was the weekend. We’re supposed to be enjoying ourselves and committing irresponsible acts that we’ll regret in our forties.”

“Oh, really?” John flirted, “Then I think you best show us how it’s done.”

“Gladly,” she said with a wink before dragging him off to the dance area. Christ, she was gorgeous. A witty grin and close-cropped red hair framing gorgeous green eyes.

“So, does this make you my teacher now?” John asked as she leaned in close and he breathed in faint traces of floral shampoo and roses.

“Well, that depends,” she murmured.

“On what exactly?” he asked.

Your performance,” she said with a wicked grin before pulling him in for their first kiss. They’d been dancing around each other for months really. Paired together for every project in their three shared classes. He would have asked her out ages ago but she’d been dating someone from back home until about a month ago. That had fizzled out as secondary school relationships sometimes do when distance and differences arise during university.

He leaned in heavily to the kiss, wrapping her gently up in his arms as he tasted the slightly fruity taste of her lip balm and traced her full-bottom lip with the tip of his tongue. He let out a startled gasp as she ran a confident hand through his hair and tugged sharply.

“Maybe we could take this…lesson…elsewhere?” John breathed heavily.

“My thoughts exactly,” she whispered with a heated stare before planting a firm kiss on the corner of his mouth and leading him out of the party. They made their way slowly back to John’s stopping ever few meters to kiss heatedly. John kept an arm wrapped snuggly around her shoulders. The trip up the elevator to the eighth floor nearly broke his self-restraint as Sarah stepped in flush against him and he could feel her breasts brush against his chest. At the ding of the doors, John walked Sarah backwards unwilling to break the kiss. She pivoted suddenly right outside his door and John moaned softly as she pushed him firmly against the wood and started leaving a trail of kisses down his neck. He gasped as she allowed him to pull her up against his body and he felt her skirted hip brush against his erection. It was at that point the door to his dorm room swung open from the inside and he fell flat on his arse and stared up into the shocked faces of twelve people he didn’t know and one bland smile from his token detective genius mate.

“Sherlock?” he asked confused and embarrassed as he got his feet and tried to cover his erection and ease Sarah’s sudden uncertainty at the same time as she fidgeted awkwardly in the doorway, “What the bloody buggering fuck are you doing here and who are all of these people!?”

“I did send you a text,” Sherlock said evenly.

“Yes, but I obviously didn’t get it, so do you mind elaborating?” John sighed.

“Do you remember the inheritance case I was speaking with you about last week?” Sherlock began, “The one with the aardvark droppings?”

“Yes…” John answered tentatively.

“Well, I’ve solved it!” his best mate said with a flourish of his great coat.

“Congratulations?” John replied, “I’m still not quite seeing the connection though…”

“I needed a neutral territory to meet with both sides of the family,” Sherlock continued, “My flat wouldn’t work because it would seem to give preference to the individuals who hired me and the deceased’s home wouldn’t work either. So, I sent you a text requesting the use of this space to ensure that both parties could ensure fair treatment. I did text you.”

John nodded slightly before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone.

_1 new message._

_Need to borrow your flat for a case. Be there in twenty. Don’t bother with a tea service. SH_

“Yes,” John said, “I see. But maybe next time, wait until I actually reply before coming over with guests, yeah?”

“If you insist,” Sherlock huffed slightly, “But I thought you might find this interesting and it is exponentially more diverting than a university party.”

“I’m sure I would have,” John answered with a slight grin at his mad best mate, “But for next time. Let me know ahead of time.”

“Of course,” Sherlock said before focusing behind John and onto Sarah, “Hello.”

“Hi?” Sarah asked nervously.

“Mr. Holmes!” a sharp male voice called out from the herd of unknown individuals filling John’s room, “Can we please get on with this?”

“Oh, right. Forgot you lot were still here,” Sherlock turned back to them quickly with a plastered on fake grin, “Both wills are fake and the real one is safely locked away in a safety deposit box. Coincidentally, you’re late grandmother left everything to a series of charities. You can see yourselves out. Ta ta. Don’t forget to refer me to your friends.”

John and Sarah stood out of the way as the family strode angrily out of the dorm room. Within seconds the room was empty and Sherlock had collapsed back onto John’s bed and was idly playing with his phone.

“I do hope you got paid up front…” John said blandly.

“Of course,” Sherlock countered, “I’m not an idiot.”

“Are you up for Chinese? I’m actually feeling peckish,” Sherlock said before glancing once more at John and trying cover up a subtle grin, “Oh, no. I can see you’re attempting to avoid take-away at the moment.”

“You’re hilarious,” John said, collapsing into his deskchair.

“Maybe I should go…” Sarah said glancing back and forth between them.

“Oh, yes. Feel free,” Sherlock drawled.

“No!” John cut in, “You don’t have to go. Sorry about all of this. This is my best mate from back home. Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, this is Sarah.”

“Hello,” she said tentatively.

“Does your sister know that you borrowed her jacket?” Sherlock asked, “And no one believes that is your actual hair color.”

“Sherlock…” John groaned as he watched Sarah flush red before stomping out of the room. John tried to go after her but she caught the elevator before he was able to catch up.

“You’re a great big berk sometimes, you know that right?” John said.

“Oh, please,” Sherlock said, “It was just the truth. She’ll be fine and amenable to your amateur wooing techniques by next Thursday. Now that your evening is free, I have a proposition for you.”

“Oh, really?” John asked, “And what’s that?”

“Since you seem overly worried about your midsection at the moment and I would very much like company for dinner, I suggest that we agree to a two hour sparring session in the ring and then dinner afterward.”

“I haven’t been to the gym in ages,” John sighed, “Been a bit busy with classes…”

“Then no time like the present,” Sherlock smirked, “I’ve already packed your kit, change your clothes and let’s go.”

“You’re slightly mad,” John giggled as he went to his closet.

“Then you must be as well,” Sherlock answered.

“Obviously,” John smirked.

0000000000000000000

“Where the bloody hell did you disappear to last night?” Murray asked as John made his way into the taller boy’s flat, “Did you and Sarah finally get together?”

“That was the plan,” John sighed, “But Sherlock ended up hosting an inheritance stand-off in my dorm last night which kinda tossed a bucket of cold water all over my intended evening.”

“Wanker,” Murray laughed, “I bet you were livid.”

“Ah, it was alright,” John said, “Sarah wasn’t too keen on the change in plans though. Stormed out shortly after the family did. I’ve already texted her twice but I haven’t heard back.”

“So what?” Murray asked, “You spent last night alone with blue balls and a bad attitude?”

“Nah,” John answered, “It turned out alright. Sherlock and I went to the gym and then grabbed dinner.”

“Alright, just so I have this straight,” Murray said evenly, “You spent last night, centimeters away from at the very least a very heavy petting session with the lady you’ve been mooning over for three long, and may I add torturous for me, months and instead you ended up wading into a inheritance kerfuffle, pissing off the chick in question, and spent the rest of the night rolling around with a bloke and then going for dinner?”

“Could you possibly have come up with a more suggestive description of practicing martial arts with Sherlock?” John sighed.

“I could try,” Murrary countered.

“It sounds a lot worse than it was,” John answered, “Just don’t…”

“Don’t what?” Murray asked.

“Don’t tell anyone else that, will you?” John asked quietly, “You make it sound grimy that way.”

“Fine,” Murray answered, “Mum’s the word. How is the detective anyway? Last time you spoke about him, he’d been in Germany for six months.”

“He got back a few weeks ago,” John answered.

“Is he sticking around for a bit longer?” Murray asked.

“He says that he has to go where the cases take him until he is able to build up a stronger reputation. Mentioned something about Florida yesterday,” John answered.

“Bloody hell,” Murray laughed, “That bloke gets around.”

0000000000000000000

“Mrs. Hudson?” Sherlock asked of the petite women fretting repetitively with her fingernails.

“Yes, young man?” she said glancing up from the barely touched, lukewarm bowl of soup in front of her.

“I’m Sherlock Holmes,” Sherlock said holding his hand out, “You left me a voicemail.”

“Oh, hello,” she said unable to muster up a convincing smile but capable enough to return a firm handshake and an assessing gaze, “You’re much younger than I had anticipated.”

“As are you,” he said, trying for charming.

“That’s enough of that, Mr. Holmes,” she said with a chuckle, “I’m not so easily had as that.”

“Mrs. Hudson,” Sherlock smiled, “I do believe we are going to get on rather well and I would be happy to ensure that your husband never leave the American prison system.”

“Thank you,” she said evenly, “I do hope you’re as good as you say.”

“Better,” Sherlock answered firmly, before taking a seat opposite the woman, “Tell me everything.”

0000000000000000000

“Large Pumpkin Spice Latte with Soy milk and a dash of cinnamon,” John said placing the cup gently in front of Sarah’s pile of books in the library.

“Huh,” she huffed blandly.

“I…ah…I just wanted to…apologize about the other night,” John stuttered.

“Yeah, good idea,” she said evenly, “How’d you remember all of that? We’ve just been out for coffee once or twice.”

“Oh, I learned these great memorization techniques from Sherl---I mean, I remembered,” he continued, “Can I make it up to you?”

She stared at him blandly for several minutes before sighing heavily and picking up the cup, “It’s a good thing you’re pretty, Watson.”

“Thanks!” John said relieved, “I promise nothing like that will ever happen again.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she said turning back to her pharmacology textbook, “Just be glad that I’m a pushover. Thai food? Friday?”

“Wonderful, yeah,” he said, “Do you mind if I join you? I brought my books.”

She leaned over and placed a light kiss on his cheek, “You’re adorable. Help me with the SSRIs?”


End file.
